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epic poetry

sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
l'amore è stato cantato mille sensi
non si addolori che finito
il lampo ha esposto a flash ed ha alzato
glass-blower di tempo
mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
sono il vento che esita
gloom
ci è un paese in pieno di vino
i drowses pallidi di giorno sull'occidentale bagnano

 



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